What to make when veggies attack

Every summer that I can remember, my mother has had a vegetable garden. And every summer that I can remember, she ends up with the inevitable mountain of squash and tomatoes.... we used to actually keep count of the cherry tomatoes throughout the summer, in the order of hundreds. Now that I have my own yard I grow an herb garden every year, but I don't have enough space for a veggie garden. So this year I joined a Community Supported Agriculture (CSA), where for an obscene membership fee, we get an equally obscene amount of locally grown organic produce each week.

Since the veggie takeover has started at my own house, I've been bugging my mom for good recipes for hacking away at the mountain, so she shared her recipe for Garden Vegetable Casserole. Its a tasty way to use excess produce and fresh summer herbs, and it's hearty enough to stand alone as an entree. It's a flexible recipe, so tweak it for whatever herbs and veggies you have this week. If you don't love this one, then you deserve to lose the battle against the veggies.

Hot Summer Cold Soup

If you are a soup person like me, you love the mid-winter coziness of creamy butternut squash soup or thick and hearty chili. And even in the summer (when there is sufficient high-power office building AC), I crave a warm bowl of corn & crab chowder (just had that today for lunch, so good!). But in the peak of summer heat when you face day after day of melting in your sunbaked car and you don't want to even blow dry your hair much less use your oven, a big bowl of chilled soup sounds pretty appealing. So does a salt-rimmed margarita on the rocks, but I digress....

So over the past few summers, I have tried several different varieties of gazpacho, a cold tomato-based soup (usually raw) created by the culinary geniuses in Spain. I've tried various interpretations and levels of chunkiness, and in my attempts I've found a lot of gazpacho recipes that I like, and a few that made me feel like I was eating cold baby food. But I've finally settled on my favorite gazpacho, one that has wandered a bit from it's Spanish roots but is simple, healthy and packed with bold flavors. Most importantly, it requires no cooking whatsoever, so its the perfect dinner after a day of losing layers of skin to a hot leather drivers seat.

Weirdest things I've ever eaten

My standard for weird food may not be the same as most people... I have friends that think eating tofu is just about the craziest thing they can think of to try. So I thought I would put together my list of the top five weirdest things I've eaten and see how I measure up.

1. Grasshopper (in tacos at a mexican restaurant in DC)
2. Beef marrow (Roast, Detroit, MI)
3. Snails (Valencia, Spain)
4. Sea urchin (Restaurant Eve, Alexandria, VA)
5. Shark (first time in Merida, Mexico next to two bottles of tequila, second time grilled at home!)

The grasshopper was the only one I didnt particularly like... the flavor was good, but you could feel their little legs and feet in your mouth, it just didn't pair well with my margarita. In case you hadn't guessed, the common thread of my list is that alcohol was involved in the consumption of all of these items.

What about you - what's on your list??

Adventures in Vegetables

In my continual quest to find new and interesting places to eat, my friend Laura and I recently tried Inn Season Cafe, a vegetarian/vegan restaurant in Royal Oak, Michigan. I had heard good things, but I knew we were in for a delicious dinner when we walked in and saw that there was a 30 minute wait - on a Wednesday night!

We went in with an adventurous spirit, reflected by the fact that we actually ordered the black bean quesadilla with *gasp* soy cheese (phenomenal, despite my sin against the dairy gods). I was a little thrown off by the lack of booze in this joint, but I suppose that's part of the whole "taking care of your body" thing. Fortunately, they had an extensive selection of natural sodas (made from real fruit juice and no added sugar), so we tried the black cherry and cranberry flavors, both excellent.

The adventure continued with an order of fajitas, made with seitan instead of beef. I had never tried seitan before and had no idea what to expect. My later research informed me that seitan is made from gluten, and is apparently a great low fat source of protein. Turns out it wasn't a bad substitute, although I think I'll be sticking with my all-beef version of fajitas.

My lesson learned: When eating vegetarian, eat vegetables. Meat substitutes just aren't the same as actual meat, and vegetarian chefs definately know what they are doing with their hearty entrees made without a "meat" centerpiece.

Oh, and soy cheese is not right. Period.

Breakfast Casserole Comparison

We have this great set up at work where we rotate who brings breakfast every Thursday morning. It used to be a consistent pattern of bagels each week, with the occasional donut to shake things up, but recently we have started taking breakfast to the next level. One person even brought in all the ingredients for everyone to make their own parfait. So when it came to my turn, I decided to bring in the tastiest, but least healthy breakfast... the breakfast casserole.

I love all casseroles, but the breakfast variety has a speacial place in my heart. Regardless of the specific variation, breakfast casseroles are always delicious, homey, and comforting. Kind of like the cozier version of a quiche. Unfortunately, all that wonderful usually comes at a cost: chlesterol, fat, excessive calories... etc. So I decided to do a comparison with my coworkers. First I brought in the original version of the breakfast casserole. It was wonderful, and most people took multiple servings. A few weeks later, I brought in the lightened version, replacing pork sausage with a leaner chicken and turkey sausage, reducing the amount of bread and whole eggs, and replacing whole milk with 2%. The lighter version got the same great reviews, and of course everyone felt a lot better about eating it! My next step is to start playing with this version... I already have an Italian twist to try, and then a Mexican one. I hope my coworkers are up to tasting a few more versions!

Pleasant Pheasant

Just like the average American eater, I prefer to be a safe distance from the reality of the dead animal I am eating. I am usually comfortable with beef or pork bones and I love my baby back ribs, but poultry bones with the ligiments and tendons are a little too real for me. I like my buffalo wings boneless and my chicken breasts in boneless skinless form. So when my husband was given two whole pheasants by a coworker who had brought them home from a hunting trip, I was a little reticent.

I had never made pheasant before, so I did some online research to get some tips and a recipe. My husband butchered the little guys for me, and we invited the neighbors over. We were all a little nervous about eating these pheasants, and it was blatantly clear that I had no idea what I was doing. I definately had my own doubts as the sauce I was making had plenty of ingredients that I am not used to using in my cooking, such as gin and grapes. But we all dove in and tried this strange meal with teeny little bird parts. I'll be honest, we kind of looked like we were kings and queens chowing down on a hearty meal in medieval times. The only thing missing was a jousting competition.

The pheasant itself was flavorful and meaty, a little like duck but not as greasy. We also had a red cabbage and wild rice dish with bacon that was a big hit, but the real star of the show was the sauce. The sauce was fruity and bold, and complemented the pheasant nicely. I even ended up using the leftover sauce as a marinade for chicken kabobs later that week.

I don't know if pheasant will be making an encore performance in our house, but it definately opened my eyes to alternatives to the standard beef/chicken/fish rotation, even when they involve tendons and ligaments.

My Love Affair with Ham

Ham and I have always had a tumultuous relationship. Let's be honest, ham isn't exactly something you crave, at least not for the majority of the American population above the age of eight. There are a few of my favorite recipes in my repertoire in which ham plays at least a supporting role, most notably Nasi Goreng (a delicious Indonesian rice dish that my mother has made my entire life, but really has too many specialty ingredients to post here) and Chicken and Ham Lasagna. Outside of these few exceptions, ham has never meant a whole hell of a lot to me.

Until my recent trip to Spain.

I had heard ahead of time from a friend who lives in Madrid that "ham is MAJOR" in Spain but I guess I didn't put a much thought into it until I was actually there (that's me on the right at the Museum of Ham... I know). Now I should clarify that ham in Spain (and I imagine elsewhere in the world) is not like the deli ham or Honeybaked Ham you and your childhood self are used to. It is cured and therefore looks (and tastes to some degree) more like prosciutto. The most common type of ham in Spain is jamon iberico, which comes in varying levels of quality, the most expensive being from pigs that are fed only acorns their whole lives (boring diet, eh?). You should also be aware that the Spanish have a pretty gross habit of decorating their restaurants and bars with dozens of pig legs on display (see below).

Anyways... I went to Spain thinking I could try some tasty jamon iberico and call it a day. What I quickly found out is that the Spanish don't simply "like" ham - in many restaurants we went to it was literally the only meat on the menu. The other thing I found out is that ham and I had some exploring to do in our relationship - it was delicious!

So I asked around for the best place in Madrid to try the creme de la creme of the ham world: the acorn eating piggies (jamón ibérico de bellota). I learned that the perfect place for ham and I to take the next step in our relationship was Taberna Real, a bright and lively bar in central Madrid near the Royal Palace. From the minute we walked in, we knew we were headed for gastronomic glory: the floor was littered with garbage. (Apparently in much of Spain, it is considered proper etiquette to throw your napkin on the floor when you are done with it. We were told that "the more garbage there is on the floor, the better the food.")

We ordered up the good stuff and had a little afternoon ham-fest. The photo on the left is what we got (the bread served on the side is soaked in tomato puree and olive oil, also very popular in Spain).

We all agreed it was fabulous, and decided to adopt ham as our culinary traveling companion, ordering it at every city we visited and trying various types and combinations.

I'm not sure that ham and I will actually make a long term commitment, but we had some good times and I'll always remember it. At the very least, we'll always have Easter and Christmas.

What happens when Greeks and Turks collide

I am typically too intimidated to make a particuler ethnic dish for someone of that particular ethnicity. I wouldn't dare make sushi for a Japanese person or paella for a Spaniard. But sometimes my drive to learn a new dish overcomes my fear of judgement by the experts.

One of my coworkers is Turkish, and I was in charge of bringing in a dessert for the team (we alternate, its very Office Space of us). Another coworker of mine suggested I bring something Turkish, to which of course I balked. Then my sister suggested baklava, and I was sold. Not only is baklava one of the tastiest desserts of all time, I also happen to have a Greek next door neighbor that would help me learn the tricks of the trade. I had to tread lightly though, this was difficult cultural territory to navigate. Both the Greeks and the Turks like to take credit for baklava, and I was not looking to stimulate conflict.

So my peaceful baklava mission began. I knew that Turkish baklava was made with pistachios, but I wasn't about to shell a full pound of them so I substituted pecans. My Greek neighbor told me to use cinnimon sticks and lemon juice in my syrup, but she was veheminently against my use of honey. Four hours and several sticks of butter later, I nervously covered up my final product to sit overnight.

Now, I'm not going to pretend it was the best baklava anyone had ever tasted, but it was pretty darn good (can't go wrong with that amount of butter, sugar and cinnimon). My Turkish coworker had the most interesting observation though; he said that it was good "American" baklava. Apparently thats what happens when you bring the Turks and Greeks together: pretty darn good American.

The Irish Surprise

I am aware that I am a food snob. I admit that I judge restaurants based on their covers, I turn up my nose at laminated menus and beer flags, and I even make snide comments sometimes like "I'll order chicken fingers, they can't screw that up." However, I actually enjoy it when my snootiness comes back to bite me in the ass.

The first time I was a patronizing patron at Rosie O'Grady's in Ferndale, I didn't even order food, based solely on the decor (you know, traditional Irish... shamrocks and neon orange). I ordered a pint of Guiness and had a good time. Rosie's didn't cross my mind again for two years.

Then last night I joined a group that was going to Rosie's to celebrate my friend Andrew's birthday. I went in with low standards and assumed I would just order chicken fingers and mozzerella sticks. Which I did, and I am so very grateful for it. Now... mozzerella sticks are glorious everywhere, but thats my personal bias, so I will exclude them from this discussion.

The chicken fingers, however, were out of this world. Cooked to perfection, with a crispy flavorful crust - not just the standard brown tasteless grit you would expect in a joint where the water stained ceiling tiles are threatening to crash into your lap any second. No, these fingers had class... they could have been served over a sweet potato puree with a brown sugar mustard drizzle... but I digress.

One of the lovely ladies of the group recommended the chicken dumpling soup, claiming it was the best soup she had ever had. This was a grand statement, one I had to test, so I ordered a cup of the chicken dumpling soup for myself. I couldn't say it was the best soup of my life, but it was delicious; creamy, hearty, and I think the dumplings were homemade! My only complaint was that they went overboard with the salt. Then again, I finished every last spoonful.

So what's the lesson learned? Don't write off a restaurant just because it looks like a shithole... but just in case, order the chicken fingers. It really is pretty difficult to screw up chicken fingers, and you never know, they might just win you over. If not, you can always try the soup.

The Great Chili Cookoff

I am lucky enough to work at my office that hosts an annual chili cookoff, in which I have competed the past two years. I will admit, the first time I heard of this cookoff, I knew I was a guranteed gold medalist. I am not delusional enough to think I am a world-class chef, but I get rave reviews for my "famous chili" and I receive constant requests for the recipe and I was confident that this would be a cake-walk (cornbread-walk?).

So I came to my first chili cookoff with Melissa's Not-Quite Vegetarian Chili, my tried and true palate-pleaser that balanced heat with depth of flavor, and had enough meat to keep it hearty, but was packed full of conscience-pleasing vegetables. And to clinch the deal, I advertised the fact that my chili included everyone's favorite "secret" ingredient: beer. Homebrewed beer, no less!

Of course, I lost. I think I came in 5th place out of 12 contestents. The typical response as a taster approached my crockpot was "ooooh, beer... eeew, is that squash?." My chili ego was crushed.

Year two, I was far less cocky and far more strategic. Weeks before the event, I started my testing. I made a big vat of basic beef chili, no frills, nothing interesting or terrifying, and then split it into 6 separate test batches, with various additions and twists. I then invited my in-laws over and they were given a feedback card, and samples of each of the 6 test batches. Feedback was mixed, but between the four of us we came up with a simple, straightforward chili that we were confident would be a crowd-pleaser. My clincher this time was to bring accoutrements for the tasters to add at their own discretion: sour cream and shredded monterey jack cheddar.

Of course, I lost again. This time, I came in 3rd place, but I am fairly sure that my weeks of campaigning ahead of time is really the only reason for my upward progress. My chili ego suffered again.

This year's chili cookoff is quickly approaching, and I am determined to win. I have been honing my originial recipe over the past year, keeping avid notes when I make an especially tasty batch. My strategy this year is three fold: (1) ratchet up the heat (2) limit the veggies to only those traditionally in chili (3) bring back beef as the main star of the show. I'll keep the beer and the accoutrements and perhaps email Obama for campaign tips (keep an eye out for my new book, The Audacity of Beef) to use in the coming weeks.

Of course, I'm sure I'll lose.

Tater Tot Fantasy

Imagine a "nugget" of mashed potatoes, gooey and with a few chunks, just like mom's. Add some cheese (your preference, I did some with blue cheese and some with sharp cheddar), and a panko crust. What I was hoping for was the ultimate comfort food, with a contrasting texture of creaminess and crunch. Tasty, right?

Unfortunately, it just didn't turn out like my tater tot fantasy. The textures were there, but the comfort part was lacking. What it really needed was a dipping sauce.

So I surveyed my team. I received answers ranging from dijon mustard to tartar sauce, and actually had someone pre-emptively say "absolutely not gravy."

Now the traditional tater tot condiment would of course be ketchup, but it didnt fit into my fantasy as I am not exactly the tomato's biggest fan. So I went with the traditional mashed potato condiment - sour cream. I roasted a few heads of garlic, added them to some sour cream and seasoned with salt and pepper.

There it was, the ultimate comfort food. Creamy, crunchy, tangy, tasty - what's not to love? I have quite the future planned for these little Mashed Potato Bites. I'm going to try a version with bacon, perhaps a version with chives, maybe even a loaded baked potato with all of the above and some broccoli.

Wait... nix the broccoli, it's too healthy and interferes with the fantasy.